


The Storm

by devilchild



Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 21:36:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9788039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilchild/pseuds/devilchild
Summary: This work explores what it would be like if the characters were in a hospital when the storm hits, opposed to the original story-line.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I excluded some original characters in part one, but plan on introducing them later. Please ask questions and make suggestions!

Nathan: The room is constructed of two blank walls, a wall with a door and a window facing the interior of the building, opposite a wall that is a window facing the exterior of the building. Outside the clouds hang oppressively low, heavy enough to touch your shoulders. Back in the room there are two armchairs, facing away from a bed in which there lies a man. He is rather young with smooth olive skin and dark curly locks brushing his ears. One tube runs into his mouth and down his throat, while others penetrate his forearms.

Kelly: She is sitting at a plastic blue picnic table and staring blankly at the rain through a large window that stretches the length of the cafeteria. The fluorescent lights highlight every pimple on her face and makes her skin glow green. Strands of hair obscure her view of the trees below. She is wearing white paper scrubs and slippers. The table she sits at is one of four in the cafeteria. Other men and women in white scrubs mill about in a harmless trance. One man is at the other end of the room, whispering frantically to an invisible figure and gesturing to the sky.

Rudy: A woman wearing a dark brown pantsuit and an understanding expression is seated in a pea-green armchair; she holds a pen and pad of paper. A man in white scrubs sits on a matching pea-green armchair across from her. His elbows are on his knees and his head is in his hands. Strands of black hair sway over his fingers as his body is racked with sobs. He looks up from his hands and faces the window trying to collect himself. The woman starts scratching something down on her notepad but is interrupted when the man shakily questions “Is it snowing?”.

Simon: He lays in bed, his toes making awkward peaks in the blanket. He is watching his parents through the window that looks into the hall. They are speaking to a large woman whom has the title of a social worker. His mother catches his eye and smiles, he looks away; his hair falls into his eyes. He reaches to push it out of his face but stops short. His wrists are restricted by padded cuffs attached to either side of the bed, his forearms wrapped in gauze. He feels a pain in his sternum and thumps his head against the pillow in frustration. He turns his gaze to the window and watches hail patter off of car hoods. He watches, entertained, as distant lightning pulses and hail begins to fall in large chunks. A bolt of lightning hits the parking lot below and roars into the room. Instinctively, he reaches up to cover his face but inhales sharply as the cuffs tighten painfully and jerk his arms back down.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please ask questions and make suggestions!


End file.
